


Running 'till the world ends

by AmiLu



Category: Prince of Stride: Alternative (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, M/M, Or very hopeful, Panic Attacks, Running is Takeru's Life, angsty, i think, mentions of abuse, you tell me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-06-07 05:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6786433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmiLu/pseuds/AmiLu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They lived in different worlds, they were too different. They should have clashed, or at least they should have ignored each other—it was the natural thing to do.</p><p>But they shared a passion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A promise, made and forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> This is a spin off of my other work, [First meeting](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6720970) (it's not necessary to read it to understand this one, but... I'd be happy if you did! :D). It will be mostly canon compliant at the beginning, but there's a small (not really, actually it's pretty big) difference that will start a snowball effect at one point.
> 
> I don't believe this will be more than four chapters or so. Also, it's slash. (If you didn't notice). It will have a slow build because boys have issues.
> 
> That's it, enjoy! :)
> 
> (As always, constructive criticism is very welcomed).

The three were very different. Two boys with opposite personalities and a girl with her head in the clouds. They lived in different prefectures, one from Tokyo, one from Hyougo, and the third from Hokkaido. They met by chance in Takeru's hometown. Riku was on vacation with his family in Kobe, where his maternal grandparents lived. Nana was there for the summer, accompanying his father, who was busy with his work but loved his little girl so much that took her with him.

They lived in different worlds, they were too different. They should have clashed, or at least they should have ignored each other—it was the natural thing to do.

But they shared a passion.

They had something in common in the form of a sport: Stride. Their love for it was so great that their differences didn't matter.

Riku and Takeru met first, in a lonely little park, beneath an elephant-shaped slide. Riku's love for the sport was immediately obvious to Takeru, who got enamored with it shortly after. It was Riku's idea, that they start running together. It was also one of Takeru's most treasured memories, because it was the beginning of a new chapter in his life, a much better one.

Then they met Nana, a week later, when Riku almost ran into her and had to pull off a complicated pirouette to avoid the crash. Takeru stared at his friend in awe, after the shock and adrenaline had started to fade, and Nana was fascinated. She had known about Stride, but it was her first contact with the sport in real life and it enchanted her almost as much as Takeru felt taken with it.

Soon, she started to hang out with them.

At first, she wanted to be a runner, too, but it didn't work so well. As slow and clumsy as Takeru considered himself to be compared to Riku, he had to admit that he was good compared to Nana. She had been down about it for a while, but then Riku saved the day (again) when he introduced her to the role of the Relationer. She hadn't looked convinced at the beginning, but a couple of videos and stories later, she had taken a real shine to it. And she was very good at pulling off successful relations between the boys.

It was a warm afternoon, three days after the trio had met, when Riku presented his companions with a pamphlet. It announced that an under-15 Stride Competition was going to take place in five days, and he wanted to compete.

“Please,” he had said, very serious. “I know we can win. We _will_ win.”

Though they were nervous, both Nana and Takeru accepted. They couldn't say no when Riku's eyes were so full of fire and determination. It had made them feel emboldened and brave, which neither felt too very often.

It was a small amateur competition, but they took it seriously nonetheless. They practiced and practiced and practiced… and then Riku insisted that _Takeru_ be the Anchor. It was a shock, because Riku was by far the strongest and fastest of them and it should have been him the one who finished the race, the one who crossed the final goal.

Takeru did try to make him see reason, but the bubbly boy would have none of it.

“It _must_ be you, Takeru,” he had said, and just like before, when he had told them they would be competing, the dark haired boy accepted without any more protests.

He ran with all his might, terrified that he wasn't good enough, that he hadn't practiced enough, that he was going to disappoint both his first and only friends because there was no way he could win this, there was no way that… Takeru won't ever forget Riku's next words, his vote of confidence.

“Trust him, trust Takeru! Takeru, _don't give up!”_

It was then Takeru decided that in fact, he could do it. He _would_ do it. He was going to win and prove it to the world and to himself that he wasn't useless, that he wasn't a waste of space and food and money—that he was _worthy_. Worthy of having friends, worthy of being loved.

He redoubled his efforts and, thanks to Nana's accurate indications, together with Riku he pulled off their best relation to date. The small fragment of a second in which their hands touched was the defining moment. In that minuscule period of time, he had felt as if he could sense every emotion that Riku was feeling—his adrenaline, his hopes, his faith. He ran even faster, as though he had suddenly sprouted wings, feeling almost weightless. He collapsed in a breathless heap on the floor just after crossing the finishing line, but he was elated. He had done it. He was not useless.

They won.

They really won!

“Oi, catch your breath,” Riku had said. Takeru opened his eyes and marveled at the sight of that huge smile and outstretched hand, so similar to the time they first met. “You did it, Takeru.” The _I knew you_ _would_ _,_ went unsaid.

Takeru smiled—the brightest he had ever smiled—and took the hand. He was pretty sure that he would always take that hand.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night, they celebrated their success. Summer vacation was coming to an end and they would soon have to part ways. Nana was going back to Hokkaido, and Riku's time visiting his grandparents was over. They lit fireworks on the beach, and it was then that they promised to meet again.

They promised to enroll in the same high school and win Stride's most important tournament: End of Summer.

They promised, and Takeru kept that promise close to his heart.

Both Riku and Nana had been a blessing, a breath of fresh air in his oppressive, neglected life, and he treasured the memories of their time together as something fragile and invaluable. He took shelter in them as his home life crashed further down, a continuous reminder of his true value. They were his only source of strength many times after that eventful summer; the reason why he didn't give up and studied hard, even thought it was difficult for him. He studied because it was the only way to enter high school, and he had given his word.

He was grateful. Hadn't it been for that purpose—for the fire that had been ignited inside of him by Stride, by Nana's enthusiasm, by Riku's warm smile and endless cheer—he might have fallen apart at the seams.

In middle school, he studied as much as he could, and continued training and running with the school team. He didn't really feel as if they connected, not as he had with his childhood friends. Not as he had with Riku. But he wasn't surprised, because he knew it in his heart that his only team was the one with those two, and that wouldn't change anytime soon—probably would never change.

They had promised to form a team and run together again, after all.

 

* * *

 

 

Seven years later they met at Hônan Academy. Takeru was not really surprised, just very excited.

Riku was still as cheerful as he remembered him. He had grown as much as Takeru, and the bespectacled boy could notice that he had kept running—not that he had ever doubted it. His legs, even through the uniform trousers, were obviously well muscled and firm—perfect for a fast dash. He ached to touch them, but he ignored the impulse for the moment and kept considering his friend. (During the years, he had developed a small leg obsession, and he usually scared people without trying to because he would get too curious and touchy-feely.) His hair had grown, and he wore it partly tied up, but his bright, encompassing smile was the same. Takeru could only stop staring at him when it was Nana's turn to introduce herself. Even through his own introduction—in which he only stated his name—he couldn't bring himself to stop staring.

Nana hadn't changed much physically. She was taller, and her hair was longer, too, but it was still up in her signature twin ponytails. Takeru almost smiled when she asked for assistance because she didn't know much about Tokyo, but his attention was caught by Riku's clapping, which died slowly when Takeru's eyes fell on him once more.

He had a bad feeling. Something was not right.

Apparently, both of his friends had completely forgotten about him, and about the other.

But it was alright. He could deal with that. They would—naturally—join the Stride Club and then, when they ran together again for the first time in so long, they would remember everything.

He was sure of it.

 

* * *

 

 

It didn't happen quite like that.

During recess, he went hunting for the clubroom and finally found it after an exhaustive search. It was isolated and looked almost abandoned. He wasn't particularly bothered by that, but he was slightly concerned that Riku and Nana would miss it. So he decided to look for them and be their guide.

He found Riku first, in the gymnasium, and his perfect legs were bared thanks to the sports uniform. Takeru couldn't resist this time, and had to touch them. The senpai with the volleyball asked for Riku's name and almost unconsciously, Takeru answered at the same time he made contact with the smooth skin.

“Yagami Riku.”

“Eh?” Riku and the senpai echoed, surprised, and before he could say anything to explain his presence, Riku had run away. He was still really fast, and Takeru was impressed. Though, it did pose a problem, because now he had to search for him again.

He decided to go back towards the section of the school where the club room was located, hoping that Riku had found his way there, but found Nana instead. She was still enthusiastic about Stride, and followed Takeru to the club room without hesitance, even though she was surprised that he knew where she was going without having to ask her about it. Takeru just answered with a vague comment about it being obvious, and the subsequent strange scene with the upperclassmen in the room was enough to distract her.

Riku, on the other hand, was much more difficult to convince. He had to physically drag him to the clubroom with Nana. Takeru couldn't fathom what could have happened in the years during their separation that made that boy—who had been obsessed with the sport—try so persistently to escape their destiny. He was honestly a little bit disappointed, but mostly concerned. Why?

The impromptu practice match that the senpai decided to hold that same day was a source of hope and excitement for Takeru. He would run with Riku, relying on Nana's words, for the first time since _that_ time. His eyes shined with enthusiasm, but his stomach still churned when he didn't notice a mirroring emotion in Riku's.

But it was okay. They would connect. They would connect, and they would remember. They _had_ to remember.

He breathed in, breathed out, and he listened to Nana's instructions. The tension transformed, and he was soon high on the feeling of adrenaline only Stride could bring, the one that he loved so much. He ran with all his might, trusting Riku to do the same and connect.

It was a bit delayed, but they managed it.

Takeru stopped with the aftermath heat of their clapping hands pulsating on his palm, watching Riku accelerate and disappear with a mix of feelings in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

He didn't waste time before going to the finishing line, barely catching the end of it. He watched as Riku fell to the ground out of breath, amazed that both he and Hasekura-senpai had finished at the very same time. Before he could consciously decide to do it, he had crossed the space separating him from his very first friend and offered his hand with a small smile. Riku's face showed his surprise briefly, but then he was grinning happily and accepting Takeru's hand, and the dark haired boy felt the heavy feeling go away.

Their memories weren't back, there was no obvious recognition in their eyes or in their way of addressing him—being called Fujiwara by them was weirder than he could have ever imagined—but now he had the hope that they could have the same relationship as back then, even if they never remembered. Takeru wasn't selfish enough to make them feel obligated to be his friends again, but he desperately wanted them to. He _needed_ them to.

The feeling was distressing enough that it distracted him, and he messed up dinner that night, which earned him a painful cigarette burn on the middle of his back. It was a small mercy that his punishments never included his legs being hurt. Other places ached, sure, but they didn't affect his running overly much.

That was the important thing.

If he could run together with his friends again, nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor edits made June 20, 2017.
> 
> Tumblr: kurosakiami01


	2. Ups and downs

They had problems connecting.

They never used to, when they were children.

Takeru was starting to wonder if he should just stop comparing the now and then, because it hurt a little every time he did it and he realized things were not the same. That their relationship was different, that it would probably never go back to what it was. It ached, like a bruise a couple of days old—more yellow than purple, starting to fade but which still stung if touched without care.

Riku was not giving his all, and Takeru would not stop, would not slow down. Not when he _knew_ what they were actually capable of. He had problems conveying this to his friend, though. It didn't seem as if Riku understood what he was trying to say. It frustrated him so much, but he didn't know what he could do to verbalize it. The closer he came to was by insisting that he believed in Riku's ability, and on trying again and again. Sadly, that only resulted in Dan-sensei, their coach, separating them and assigning Riku to watch Takeru's relays with the other runners. Takeru was slightly upset, but he understood that they needed a change of pace. Obviously, there was something they weren't doing right.

He hoped that this particular problem was over and done with by the time their first match took place, which would be sooner than expected. There was barely a week before the Kichijoji Spring Stride Festival, and though it was just an exhibition match, the club was aiming for the win.

(Takeru stepped up his training regime because he really wanted to win—the fact that running until late had him away from home and from his mom for longer was just a bonus.)

He didn't know what changed, but after their encounter with Galaxy Standard at Hasekura-senpai's sister's studio, Riku asked to run with him again. It was the last day before their match, and this time, Riku didn't slow down, and neither did Takeru. Their relay was flawless, and hope bloomed in their hearts.

“This is just the beginning. We can go faster.”

A brilliant grin. “Obviously.”

_We can win._

 

* * *

They lost. The pairs had been changed just the day before the race, and even though they still ran to win, it was obvious that both teams were in completely different levels.

Takeru was disappointed, of course, but in reality he had known that it was probable. Their team was not yet working at their best. Objectively, he knew that if they trained more, if they put more effort, they could win. He knew that they could and _would_ get better. But…

Losing always left him with a void inside his chest, a feeling of wrongness in the deepest parts of his being. He hated the hollow, oppressive sensation that engulfed him when it happened. Losing meant that he wasn't good enough, _again_. That he wasn't worthy. He had been the anchor and 0.4 seconds behind Saisei's runner. Not good enough. Not good enough.

_Never good enough._

His head was filled chaotically with so much static and self-depreciating thoughts that he wasn't paying attention when Riku announced that he really wanted to win their next race. Usually, that would have made him happy, but he was so busy thinking that they needed to train more, that _he_ needed to train more, that he completely missed it. His fist clenched and the sting in his palm made him realize that he was losing it.

He needed to get away quickly, before he broke down.

(He couldn't _afford_ to break down in front of his teammates.)

Abruptly, he stood up—the towel on his head falling to the ground, forgotten.

“I'm going to run for a bit,” he said to nobody in particular, voice flat. Without looking at the startled faces that were suddenly staring at him, he beat a hasty retreat.

He ran all the way back to his house, ignoring the sound of his mobile vibrating in his pocket. He had left his bag with the team, but he supposed that somebody would give it to him the next morning. Right then, he couldn't really care less.

Only after collapsing on his bed did he take his phone out and typed out a simple mail: _Ran home. I'm OK. See you tomorrow._ He sent it to the Stride group chat and then turned the phone off.

He made himself small under the covers, and that night he silently cried himself to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Riku knew first hand that he was not very observant, nor perceptive.

It had been made apparent several times during his early childhood, when he would ask inappropriate questions or be blunt when he needed to be subtle.

It didn't change as he grew.

He usually didn't care, because it was who he was and the people who didn't like that were welcome to walk out of his life. Riku loved sports, loved being active, and even though sometimes it hurt too much (especially while thinking about Tomoe) he loved Stride. He loved making friends that shared his passion and even though Fujiwara had basically dragged his reluctant ass back to Stride when he didn't really want to, he still considered the other boy as a kind of weird, quirky friend. Fujiwara was blunt, stoic, scarily single-minded and had a leg fetish that gave him the creeps, but he was also passionate about the sport and always pushed Riku to his limits, goading him into wanting to do better. So yes, he considered Fujiwara a friend.

He cared about him and knew him well enough to notice that something was _not_ right.

It started when they lost the match against Saisei.

Honestly speaking, Riku hadn't been thinking about winning when they competed. Since the moment the change was announced, he had known that they had no chance of victory. Not against one of the most powerful and talented teams out there. He had known they were outmatched.

Watching Fujiwara try so hard to shorten the huge distance that had formed, and actually manage to do it—to an impossible difference of 0.4 seconds against Saisei's best runner, even—made him regret not having tried harder.

He had been mesmerized as Fujiwara crossed the finishing line toe-to-toe with _Suwa_ _Reiji_.

Afterward, he had noticed Fujiwara's hunched, tense form. He had had his hands clenched shut, a towel over his head, and Riku felt ashamed that he hadn't given his all, too. That he hadn't put his heart into the race as Fujiwara had. Kadowaki-senpai blamed himself, but Riku didn't blame him. None of the other members did, either.

“Next time, I want to win,” he had said, surprising even himself. But it was true. He peeked towards Fujiwara, but the other boy still had his head down.

“Hell, yeah!” Hasekura-senpai agreed, and everybody was suddenly filled with purpose.

They turned in unison when Fujiwara stood up without warning.

“I'm going to run for a bit,” he had said in his distinctive voice, but they were all surprised at his flat, detached tone. Riku was confused and a little annoyed, but before he could snap at him, Fujiwara had gone out of the room, and the dead eyes Riku barely caught before it happened completely extinguished his annoyance.

Those same dead eyes haunted him that night after reading that simple, curt message—the only hint they had that Fujiwara hadn't met his end in some freak accident during the time he had been missing.

Riku wouldn't admit out loud how much his heart rate had accelerated when Fujiwara failed to return after an hour of being gone, and how it kept on beating faster as he didn't answer his phone when the time to get back to school arrived. Sakurai-chan had been very flustered, her worry out there and clear for all to see, and the rest of the team had been panicking quietly. When they received mail and saw that it was Fujiwara—saying that _he had run back home,_ of all things—they finally relaxed and got into the bus.

Next morning, Riku had been more than ready to give the bespectacled, obsessive idiot a big ass lecture, but he refrained when he took in Fujiwara's appearance. He had dark circles under his eyes—which seemed so much darker than they actually were—and his expression was even harder to decipher than normal. He looked tired and completely out of it.

Riku knew he wasn't one of the most perceptive people in the world… but even _he_ could see that there was something wrong with the other teen.

“Here,” he said, instead of any of all the comments he had been preparing to deliver on the way to school. “You left this behind yesterday,” he added, giving back Fujiwara's bag. The other boy blinked slowly, as if coming to focus, and accepted it mechanically.

“Yeah,” he murmured distractedly. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome, man.” Riku gave him a big smile that he hoped didn't look as fake as it felt. “Let's go to class, eh? If we don't hurry we're gonna be late and Yamada-sensei will give us another boring lecture.”

Unfortunately, they were late rather regularly and they usually had to endure a different version of the same boring speech about responsibility, seriousness, yada, yada in silence. They would normally laugh about it after it finished, but that day Fujiwara didn't seem to even register they were being scolded.

What happened? Was it because they lost? Was Fujiwara so obsessed with winning that losing even a measly exhibition match made him feel this bad? Riku couldn't understand it, but he really didn't try to. He knew himself very well and he probably wasn't reading things right, and even if he was and that was the case, it didn't really matter. The only thing he knew is that he needed to bring Fujiwara out of his slump or their team was doomed.

 

* * *

 

 

“Fujiwara!”

The dark haired boy stopped and turned towards Riku, slightly surprised to have been called out. He looked at the other boy behind his glasses, silently requesting that he start speaking. Riku looked somewhat uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot and avoiding Takeru's blue eyes.

“Did you need something, Yagami?”

Takeru had changed into his uniform right after practice had ended, because he had to buy groceries. He usually would still run for an hour or so before going to the market and then home—to prepare dinner and then to bed—but he was emotionally and mentally tired, not to mention that his mother was in a rather bad mood. In days like these, he preferred to get it over and done quickly, which sometimes helped him avoid listening to the usual tirades. His self-worth was low enough; he didn't need to add his mother's slurred derisive words on top of it. He could really do without them until he recovered at least part of his confidence.

“Actually… Um… I was wondering whether you wanted to hang out for a bit?”

Takeru blinked, surprised.

“Huh?”

Riku laughed weakly, scratching his neck in a show of awkwardness.

“I mean. We could go running some more. I could do with the practice,” he said with a smile, and Takeru felt his eyes widen. His stomach fluttered first with excitement and then sunk. The emotions might have been noticeable on his face because the other teen coughed and lost the smile. “Of course, if you want, if not I can just go by myself, or go home, or… ”

“I'd… I'd like to,” Takeru interrupted Riku's rambling. The brunette relaxed his posture and smiled again, but then frowned when he caught the torn expression in Takeru's face.

“But… ?”

“I have to do the shopping today,” he explained rather uncomfortably. “I don't… ”

“Oh. That's okay, I could go with you.”

“Huh?”

Riku rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“You're worried you won't finish shopping before you have to get home, right? But if I went with you, you'd be finished faster. What'cha say?”

For some reason, Takeru couldn't think of any words to respond. He didn't know what was happening, or why Riku had suddenly decided that he wanted to keep him company or go running with him for that matter. He was happy, nonetheless. The happiest he had been since he failed the last race.

He shrugged with one shoulder, uncomfortably aware of his rapidly beating heart, and nodded his head before turning and walking hurriedly away. He hoped his face wasn't as red as he felt it should be.

“Sure,” he murmured, but he didn't think that Riku actually heard it.

“Oi, damn it! _W_ _ait_ , Fujiwara!”

 

* * *

 

 

The month before the start of the Trial Tour to decide the teams that would compete in EOS passed faster than Takeru would have thought.

He had been surprisingly fine. His sudden episode of depression had ended much faster than any he had had before, and he strongly suspected that it was because of Riku. Nana and the rest of the team helped, too, but it was Riku who started to voluntarily stay later to run with him, and he had even invited him to study together in his house. (Of course, that had ended in them challenging each other to races and other silly competitions, and there hadn't been that much actual studying going on. But it had been fun. Takeru doesn't remember a time when he had smiled so much, laughed so much, felt so very lighthearted.)

The times his mother punished him hadn't been enough to dampen his rather good spirits, not ever the rather painful kick to his right side he received the day he had told her that he would be gone for the weekend because their next match was in Atami.

Takeru hid a wince when Riku elbowed him in his affected side after trading food with Hasekura-senpai. He smiled indulgently at his friend's happy eating and went back to his monotone lunchbox. Ugh. White meat… and more white meat. He didn't particularly hate it, but he didn't like it that much either. It was the only thing that his mother had said he could take from the fridge, though, and she hadn't given him money to buy anything else, so it was his only option.

“Fujiwara, gimme some of your… Ah, er, it doesn't matter,” Riku interrupted himself, hurriedly looking away with a slightly nauseous face. This caused the other members to turn their attention towards them, and Takeru internally panicked. What could he say? He needed to say something!

“If you are serious about training, you should eat white meat. It has a lot of proteins and… ” He started to spout a ton of data about its supposed benefits that were all bullshit. He hoped that nobody actually tried looking them up because he wasn't even sure of what nonsense he was inventing. The others lost interest and went back to their own meals, and Takeru breathed easily once again.

He knew it was silly, but he didn't want them to think that something was wrong. It wasn't in his plans to let anybody know that his home life wasn't ideal, and he was aware that even simple things could give it away if he wasn't careful. For him, it was better to be seen as slightly nutters than the truth.

Getting out of the bus, he was suddenly reminded of the fact that Atami was, indeed, a Spring Resort—which meant _baths_. (He didn't understand how could he had forgotten, as Riku had kept going on and on about it since the very moment they had been informed.)

He didn't like public baths. He tended to avoid them like the plague, and he wasn't sure how he was going to get out of joining his teammates when they got to the hotel.

Thankfully, he had time to ponder over it during the run proposed by Hasekura-senpai. He decided then that the easiest way out of it was to go running for another hour or so. It would hopefully clear the baths of people by the time he got back, and then nobody would be able to see his naked body.

It's not that he didn't like it… Well, he didn't like the scars. And the fading purplish bruise on his side was sure to call attention, and _that_ was something that he was trying to _avoid_.

Riku found him when he was going back towards the entrance. He was wearing a yukata, his hair was down. Takeru's heart skipped a bit.

“Aren't you coming to the baths, Fujiwara?” Riku asked, confused and a little irritated. “We're all going,” he added, as if it were enough reason to convince Takeru to go.

He shook his head in a negative.

“I want to run some more. I'll take one later,” he informed him and went out.

(He wondered what was wrong with his heart, and why was his face suddenly so hot?)

 

* * *

 

 

Riku watched Fujiwara's retreating back as the other boy left, befuddled as to why he wanted to keep running even after the two kilometers they had run to reach the hotel. He shrugged and put it down to Fujiwara's obsession with the sport. _He_ was going to enjoy the hot water as it relaxed his aching muscles, thank you very much.

He turned and went back to the baths. It had been Kohinata-san who noticed that Fujiwara wasn't with them, and had sent Riku in search of him. He was the one who asked about it when Riku came back alone.

“Yagami-kun!” the small second year called. “Where's Fujiwara-kun?”

“Went running,” Riku informed, taking off his yukata and lowering himself to the water. He immediately relaxed in bliss. “Ah, this feels so _good_!”

Kohinata traded worried glances with Hasekura, but they didn't say anything more about the matter.

The group played around for a while, enjoying the feeling of the hot water and preparing themselves mentally for the race next morning. Riku was excited, and he was determined to win, no matter what.

It was much later that he was reminded of Fujiwara, when said boy cursed silently, unintentionally waking Riku up. All the boys shared a room, and both first year's futons were placed side by side.

He groggily opened an eye and looked the way the sound had emerged from. He could barely distinguish Fujiwara's half naked form as he put on his pajama top, but his vision focused on the angry bruise he thought he saw on the boy's side. He blinked and it was already covered, and before his brain could process what he had seen, he fell asleep again.

He completely forgot about it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, second chapter! I'm on fire! (Third chapter is almost done, too! Wohoo!)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the ride. (Aaaah, I'm making Takeru suffer, poor him, asdalsjdasdas but it'll get better! I promise!)
> 
> Tumblr: kurosakiami01
> 
> **Constructive criticism is always appreciated! :)**
> 
> Minor edits made June 20, 2017.


	3. Sinking and resurfacing

They won their match against Mihashi High, but in turn, Kadowaki-senpai got hurt. The first year trio finally got the story of what happened when the club lost many of its members, and about Hasekura-senpai's injury. At the beginning, Takeru had been all for recruiting Kuga-san, but Kohinata-senpai's explanation put lead into Takeru's stomach. He actually flinched when he heard that it was Kuga-san's fault that Hasekura-senpai's leg had been hurt. He hated violence, and with good reason. He didn't know if he could run together with someone that could so easily injure a teammate. No. He knew he _couldn't—_

“You're wrong,” Hasekura-senpaid said. “Let me explain.”

He started to relax when he heard the full truth of the matter, the one that had been hidden to protect the club, even when it almost got disbanded for it.

He was proud of himself for not reacting negatively when Kuga-senpai appeared at the last minute before their race against Ichijokan High, whose Relationer gave everybody bad feelings.

He was proud of his team for overcoming the problems that presented themselves before them.

He was proud of their solid, indisputable victory.

He was proud of the results of their next matches, which guaranteed their entrance to the next stage of the tournament, putting them one step closer to the finals and the fulfilling of his promise.

Summer was upon them.

Takeru particularly enjoyed the hours spent trying to study at Riku's. Sometimes they were joined by Nana, who took it upon herself to make them actually study something for a change, but it was usually just the two of them pissing each other off and running in spontaneous race challenges. Sadly, this resulted in them not feeling particularly confident after final exams ended, but they weren't really worried about it. (And neither was Hasekura-san, for the record.)

Dan-sensei stoically decided to let it slide and informed the Team of their training camp with Galaxy Standard, which sparkled their interest greatly.

During the days they were at Saisei's, Takeru realized that it was no wonder those guys had beaten them so soundly every time they ran against them. Their training regime was insane! Even he, who was admittedly rather obsessed with Stride, couldn't finish without feeling completely exhausted. Losing against them at their last practice race didn't depress him nearly as much as the first. How could it? He was frankly astonished at how much those boys trained every day.

For the last night of the training camp, they went to the beach, which made him feel nostalgic. Even the fireworks they lit reminded him of a similar night seven years before, with Nana and Riku laughing by his side after having won their first race ever. Riku smiled just as he had then, playfully and full of life, and Takeru's stomach fluttered—as it was inclined to do more and more in the other boy's presence.

He had felt so comfortable that he almost let it slip that that was the second time the three of them had done something like that. Luckily only Nana caught it, but before she could ask Riku took off his shirt and ran towards the water, and the rest of the team promptly joined him. Takeru was happy to stay sitting beside Nana, watching their antics together, amused.

The sound of playful splashes mixed with carefree laughter reached their ears, giving the moment a serene and relaxing atmosphere.

“Why aren't you there, Fujiwara-kun?” Nana asked after a while.

“Mmm?”

“Why aren't you fooling around with the rest, playing in the water?”

Takeru took off his eyes from the group of boys and turned towards his only female friend. He pondered what to say that wouldn't be a lie, while not giving away the real reason.

“I can't swim,” he finally admitted. It was true, he never did learn. He hadn't had any reason to, his mother never took him anywhere on vacation and swimming had never really caught his attention. He shrugged at her surprised expression. “Besides, I like it better here. We haven't talked much after exams ended.”

Nana smiled softly and nodded, engaging him in light conversation about the training with Galaxy Standard and Stride.

Takeru felt warm and oddly peaceful. He was glad that he had this time with his friends, away from home.

 

* * *

 

 

He had thought that they were making progress. Hell, he _knew_ they were making progress. Riku had honestly been trying to better his form, his time, his running. He had been training just as hard as Takeru, _with_ Takeru, and then everything started to fall apart.

It was after the Time Trial race against Kakyoin.

A club remade from scratch, whose coach was none other than Sakurai Joe—Nana's father. To make matters worse, its anchor was Yagami Tomoe—Riku's older brother. He had remembered then, when the name appeared on display on the screen, that Riku had used to adore his big brother when they were kids. He had bragged about his abilities and his form, and Takeru couldn't help but agree with young Riku's assessment after watching Tomoe run and win the race with such ease, even against Kuga-senpai.

Every member of Kakyoin High had been playing with them, almost as if they were only indulging them. They had won so easily, they hadn't even needed to pretend to take Hônan seriously.

It hurt, being destroyed like that. And Takeru wasn't the only one feeling horrible about this particular loss.

It became apparent that Riku's actual problems with Stride were directly connected with Tomoe, and Takeru really didn't know how to help. Accepting that he lost was already difficult by itself, as the empty abyss inside his own mind was trying to drag him to depression. He fought against it, wishing to be of help to his best friend, which he knew he wouldn't be if he let himself be engulfed by darkness.

He tried, but his emotions weren't reaching Riku, and his words only made things worse.

“Work harder? Try harder?” a furious Riku muttered, throwing back in his face words that Takeru had said in hopes to make them work together, to connect again. It was just after Hasekura-senpai had accurately pointed out that they were not looking at each other, but at somebody running ahead of them. “Why are you always looking down on me?!”

Takeru was honestly baffled, because he had never looked down on Riku, would _never_ do so, and why would Riku think that Takeru did?

He didn't have time to ask, because Riku ran away.

In class next morning, it became obvious that Takeru was being avoided like the plague. At first he had thought that it was just his overactive imagination playing a trick on him, but when Riku left for lunch with some classmate whose name Takeru had never bothered to learn and whom they had never really talked to instead of coming with Takeru for their usual pre-lunch training, he was sure.

The hand holding on for dear life to the cliff of his mental state slipped, and his stomach turned when he realized that it wouldn't take much more for him to fall.

(He didn't want to fall.)

(He hated the person he became each and every time he got seriously depressed. He _hated_  him.)

Nana sat with him like usual, colorful lunchbox over her lap. She tried to lighten up the atmosphere, but Takeru could feel the tension she was failing to suppress, which only added to his anxiety.

When Riku skipped practice, Takeru's hand slipped further.

 

* * *

 

 

Three days later, nothing had changed.

Riku was still avoiding him, still not goingto the club, and Takeru couldn't take it anymore.

He informed his teammates that he would go running some more, trying to hold his anxiety back, but it was no use.

Maybe it was his fault. It probably was, actually. He reminded Riku of Tomoe, even though he didn't know how, and it pissed the other off so much that he probably decided that enough was enough. After all, when has Takeru been anything but useless? When had he started to believe that he was somehow worthy of Riku's friendship? When had he started to think that _he_ was enough to make Riku love Stride again?

It started to rain.

The desperate hold Takeru's hand had on his mental state was no more, and he fell.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't breathe and he had to _stop_.

He had to stop because he couldn't _breathe_ and he couldn't recognize where he was and then he was suddenly dropping against a tree; his heart racing and feeling as if the world was closing in on him.

A hand clutched at his heart while the other supported him clumsily against the tree. Between rattled, desperate lungfuls of air he absently noticed there was blood under his fingernails, but he didn't feel any pain at all. He couldn't care. He couldn't _breathe._

His vision was getting darker at the edges and he still _couldn't breathe_ and he was sure he was _dying—_

“Shit. _Fujiwara!”_

 

* * *

 

It was hard for Riku, watching his brother run again. He hadn't seen Tomoe for a year, as he had transferred overseas, and he sill wasn't over what happened when they were younger. He had come to almost hate Stride because him. Why? Why couldn't he ever catch up to his brother? He had always been being left behind, while Tomoe kept getting further and further away from him.

And Fujiwara was just like Tomoe. He practiced just as hard and expected Riku to do the same. It infuriated him, because it didn't matter how much he tried, how hard he worked, he would never be able to catch up with those two, who had real talent for the sport. But just like Tomoe, Fujiwara didn't seem to understand that, and it was driving Riku nuts.

He had to stop. He couldn't continue going to the club if it meant feeling this miserable. If he had to avoid his teammates to forget about his feelings, he would.

For some reason, Fujiwara's stricken face—barely noticeable for those who didn't know him as much as Riku—when he avoided him at lunch for the first time almost made him reconsider his decision. Almost.

It was three days later, during the hour when he would usually have had club activities, that by chance he met Saisei's second year Mayuzumi Asuma.

He sat with him for a while, watching a group of kids playing happily by the river. They talked amicably, and the experience was really cathartic for Riku. They both understood and felt the pressure of having amazingly talented older brothers, and Riku felt comfortable talking about his burden with the other boy.

Asuma looked at the sky and let a sigh past his lips.

“I guess I should get going. It looks like it's going to rain.”

“Huh. I guess so,” Riku agreed, getting on his feet. He offered the other a wan but sincere smile. “Thank you, man.”

The other boy chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.

“You're welcome. We'll see each other in the semifinals, and I'm going to win… again!”

That sparked a flame of competition inside Riku, and his smile brightened some. “I wouldn't be so sure!” he shouted at the retreating back, but only received a hand wave for his trouble.

The sky darkened; some raindrops fell. The kids laughed and scattered, screaming delightfully at the sudden change of weather.

Riku had a sudden urge to run. After three days of avoiding it completely, it was as if his legs were protesting against being so still, so he decided to indulge them.

He trotted lazily for a while, before picking up the pace as his thoughts returned to Stride and his feelings towards it.

Twelve minutes later, it started to rain harder; a summer shower that reminded him once more of Tomoe's back getting further away. Of his inability to follow. It was as if his brother was there again, running in front of him and leaving him behind—just like he had done so many times before.

His heart constricted and he slowed down, thinking that it wasn't really worth it. Believing he was ready to give up again, but for real this time.

And then the vision distorted and vanished, leaving him with only wisps of his brother's image.

Because the figure that had been running in front of him was not his brother, but Fujiwara.

Riku was startled to see him stop abruptly and stagger towards a tree on the pavement, stumbling as if drunk. He worried when he noticed the other fall against it as if he had problems controlling his body. When Fujiwara doubled over in pain, Riku barreled towards him, suddenly _really_ worried.

“Shit. _Fujiwara!”_

When he finally was by the black haired boy's side, Riku noticed Fujiwara was panting, breathing really fast. The hand that was clutching his jacket over his heart was trembling faintly and the right one's fingernails were bloody, still erratically scratching the bark of the tree in what must have been an unconscious gesture. Riku was at a loss. He could recognize a panic attack, but he had no idea what to do with that information. He couldn't remember what he was supposed to do in such cases!

He hovered uncertainly for a moment, a low and slightly hysterical mantra of _shit, shit, shit, what do I do,_ _what do I do_ under his breath.

The look of pure, unadulterated _fear_ he saw in Fujiwara's wide blue eyes made the decision for him. Without giving it much thought, he took both the other boy's arms and made him turn around, crouching in front of him. Fujiwara clutched Riku's biceps in a death grip, probably to avoid falling, or to tether himself, Riku couldn't tell.

“Fujiwara. Fujiwara, focus on me. Can you hear me? Fujiwara, _breathe._ ” He was babbling and he knew it, but he was out of ideas.

The other had a faraway, utterly terrified look in his eyes, and was still breathing shallowly. Riku swore mentally and quickly put both his right and Fujiwara's left hand over his chest, over Riku's heart. His own left hand was still grabbing Fujiwara's right bicep, helping them keep their balance in the uncomfortable position.

“Can you feel it? Feel me breathing? If you can, try to copy me. Breathe in, breathe out. C'mon, Fujiwara. I know you can. Yes, like that! Once more, in, out. In, out… ” He shut up and concentrated on inhaling and exhaling slowly and profoundly, and he was glad to notice that after a while, Fujiwara's chest started to rise and fall in a more healthy rhythm. When the complete terror on his face disappeared, Riku felt so relieved he could have fallen flat on his ass. “Good! Very good. You did it. You did it. That's it. It's over. It's over.”

They stayed like that for a minute or so, and then Fujiwara lost the little strength he had left in his legs and fell backward into a sitting position, causing Riku to waver and fall on his knees. The new angle put them much closer, with Riku looking down at the other boy, their hands still entwined over Riku's chest.

“Are you fine now?” Riku finally asked, softly and tentatively. After a brief hesitation, he received a shaky nod in response. “What happened?”

Fujiwara answered with a shrug, avoiding Riku's eyes. That wouldn't do. Riku scowled slightly and took the other by the chin, turning his face so that he couldn't avoid looking at him.

“Hey. Tell me what happened,” he ordered, trying to sound calm rather than angry. Not that he  _was_ angry, but he usually appeared to, when he got really worried.

“Please,” he added when it seemed that Fujiwara wouldn't talk. It must have sounded much rawer that he had intended, because the other boy immediately ceased in his attempts to avert his gaze and looked directly into Riku's eyes. The confusing war of emotions reflected in those blue eyes made Riku lose his breath for a second.

“I… I panicked,” he explained in a small voice. Well, duh. Riku barely refrained from rolling his eyes, and only managed to do so because Fujiwara was unsure enough already to risk it. “You weren't going to the club, and you were avoiding me, and I suddenly just… ” He shrugged again, uncomfortably glancing to the side, a soft blush covering pale cheeks. Riku's stomach did a somersault and sunk. This was his fault? Fujiwara missed him? Why? Why would he be wanted around when he was such a failure?

“Because I want to run with you,” Fujiwara said honestly, and it was then that Riku realized that he had asked his last question out loud.

Riku's eyes grew wide and he stared, dumbstruck.

They locked gazes and suddenly Riku was looking into a much younger pair of blue eyes, misted over with tears and hidden behind a big pair of black-rimmed glasses.

It had been raining then, too.

He had been impressed by the speed of a small figure running past the store, and followed it to the elephant-shaped blue slide in the center of a small park. The boy had been crying heartbreaking sobs, and Riku had felt the sudden _need_ to comfort him somehow, to stop those tears. He had introduced himself brightly and asked for the other boy's name, and then had asked…

His eyes widened even further, and he felt his heart stop in shock.

 _“Takeru?”_  he asked in a whisper, his voice adopting an incredulous, disbelieving tone. Fujiwara blinked, scrunching up his face in confusion for a fraction of a second, before a look of understanding softened it.

“You remembered?”

Riku couldn't quite place all the emotions behind the question, but he thought there was relief mixed with them. He felt off-balance.

He had asked Takeru—the small boy—to run with him, receiving a tiny smile for his efforts. He had felt _so relieved_ when the small boy had stopped looking so sad… Then they met Nana, and won a race, and _they promised to run together again_.

He was breathless.

“We promised. We… we promised.” He couldn't believe that he had forgotten about it. “And I forgot. Forgot. How could I?”

“Hey. It's okay,” Fuji— _Takeru_ said, looking slightly uncomfortable. “You remember now.” Riku gave him an incredulous look. How could he be okay with that?! Then his eyes narrowed and fixed the other with a hard stare.

Riku gave him an incredulous look. How could he be okay with that?! Then his eyes narrowed and fixed the other with a hard stare.

“You… you knew?”

The dark-haired boy nodded, uncertainly.

“Why didn't you say anything?”

Takeru shrugged awkwardly again, lowering his gaze.

“Why?!” A sudden idea popped into his mind and he needed to know. “Does Nana remember, too? And you didn't tell me?” His voice was getting higher, anger starting to surface. If they had decided to keep it a secret from him… Takeru shook his head furiously, as if reading Riku's thoughts. Or maybe Riku's face was simply an open book, easy to understand. He deflated. “Then, why?” He asked, confused and a little upset.

“I… didn't want you to… to feel obligated to be friends with me again,” Takeru said softly, flushing a darker shade of red. Riku blinked, thought about it and then he figured it out.

“You were scared,” he tried, and took Takeru's tensing muscles as a yes. It didn't make it any more clear, though. “You were. _Why?”_  

“I… ”

“Guys? What are you doing here?”

Startled, they looked to the side and noticed that the entire team was there, watching them curiously. Without knowing exactly why, Riku blushed and jumped to his feet, hesitating a second before offering his hand to help Takeru stand. The other stared at it with his blue eyes round, but accepted it gratefully and Riku hauled him up. They traded glances that conveyed their mutual decision to continue this particular conversation later, and then Riku smiled sunnily to Nana and the senpai.

“We were running and this guy tripped!” he explained chirpily, gaining and half annoyed, half amused glare from Takeru.

Damn.

 _Takeru_.

He had now the need to know _what happened_ , to know what the other boy had been about to say. His reason for being reluctant to remind them about a promise that obviously had meant so much to him.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

Why would a promise made over seven years before have such an impact on Takeru?

Now that he thought about it, it was obvious that Takeru had known who they were since the very beginning. That was the reason he had been staring so intensely during introductions and been so adamant for them to join the Stride team! It wasn't that he had remembered over time, but _he had never forgotten_.

Why hadn't he told them, then?

What did he mean, “because he didn't want to make them feel _obligated_ to be his friends again?” How did that even make _sense?_

“Riku?” Takeru asked softly, concerned. He snapped out of his musings and noticed that everyone was scrutinizing him again. He only avoided flushing because he was more worried than embarrassed.

“Sorry, it's nothing,” he said, though it was a big fat lie.

Something was not right at all, and he had a very bad feeling about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, chapter three! I struggled with this one, especially during the panic attack scene. I wanted to give the reader the feeling of hopeless desperation of both the one who is suffering through it, and the one who's trying to help. (Though I haven't experienced a panic attack first hand, so it may not be so accurate. Well, I did my best xD)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! :D
> 
> Let me know what you think on a comment ~ It would be appreciated! :3
> 
> Tumblr: kurosakiami01
> 
> Minor edits made June 20, 2017.


	4. Confessions and resolutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I've finished this. I can't believe it. I'm happy and sad at the same time, because this is the first multi-chapter fic in English that I've completed (and just the second, overall. It's a huge accomplishment for me, even if it seems silly.)
> 
> I wanted to thank everyone who read, followed and left kudos or lovely comments on this fic. You are all awesome!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the end of the ride!

Riku was not happy.

Three days had passed since Fujiwara had his panic attack and Riku remembered their childhood friendship, and he had the time to think carefully about the other boy's words and actions.

He didn't like what he could infer from them.

A budding sense of dread was forming with each added observation, and the fact that Fujiwara was effectively _not talking about it_ wasn't making him feel any better about the whole situation.

Every time Riku so much as _hinted_ towards talking about it, Takeru would successfully distract him with another topic, or include a third person in their discussion, making it difficult for Riku to breach the subject.

It was suspicious.

Almost as suspicious as Takeru never changing with the rest of the team, always having something else to do when they went swimming or to the baths, never inviting Riku or anybody else to his house, saying that _he hadn't wanted to make them feel obligated to be his friends again_.

Almost as suspicious as Takeru getting overly depressed for losing a stupid practice match.

Almost as suspicious as the boy actually _flinching_ when people got too close without warning.

Fuck. What was happening? Why hadn't Riku noticed something was wrong before? Why hadn't the senpai? Or the teachers?

Well, he knew that _he_ hadn't noticed because he hadn't been looking. He had just seen what Takeru wanted him and the rest of the world to see, and only after he had started to feel more self-conscious about the other boy and actually tried to find clues to understand him better was he able to see beyond the facade and to the boy beneath.

Riku was almost certain that the boy he had interacted with under the rain was the most sincere Takeru has been to his true self in front of Riku—or of anybody—since they met in high school. Oh, he wasn't trying to imply that the Takeru they knew was a fake, just that it was only a small part of him, while another—the most vulnerable—was hidden away, protected behind strong shields.

That was what he had surmised from his memories of past interactions and new observations, but he hadn't had the chance to confirm any of it with the boy in question, because it was obvious that Takeru wasn't keen on discussing the matter any further.

And though Riku was convinced that his life would be much easier if he could just forget about it, he didn't want to. Takeru was important to him—even more now that he remembered the small boy Riku had once made smile solely with an honest offer of friendship and a stretched hand.

It was important for him to know, even when he was scared of verifying whether what he suspected was true. He hoped it wasn't, but he wouldn't hold his breath.

Despite his fears, he _needed_ to know.

“Takeru,” he called when they were finishing up with practice one afternoon. The other boy turned towards him with an eyebrow raised in question. “We need to _talk,”_  he stated, stressing the last word meaningfully while looking at the other in the eyes, trying to convey his seriousness.

The dark haired boy gulped and glanced away, nervously playing with the strap of his bag.

“I have to buy groceries today…”

_“Takeru.”_

Fujiwara looked up guiltily, biting his lower lip. Crossing his arms over his chest, Riku narrowed his eyes and took a step closer.

_“Takeru.”_

“Yes!” he blurted, annoyance and resignation permeating his tone. He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Yes, I know.” Riku motioned for him to get on with it, but he still looked unsure. “I know. _I will_. But… ”

“No buts, Takeru. You've been avoiding me long enough,” Riku butted in, tired of the tip-toeing.

 _“But._ Let me do it _after_ the match with Saisei. Please. There's only two days until then, and I don't want us to get distracted. _Please.”_

It was the almost desperate tone, together with the promise of _after,_ the only thing that persuaded Riku to let it go for the time being.

But he _was_ holding Takeru to that promise.

 

* * *

 

 

With a little less to worry about, he let himself be successfully distracted by Stride.

Even when the revelation of his quirky teammate actually being a dear childhood friend who he had regretfully forgotten about for a time was a shock, the words that were the catalysts for the memory coming back were not forgotten.

_“Because I want to run with you.”_

Such a simple statement. There was no reason for it to have affected Riku in any way, right?

_“Because I want to run with you.”_

There was nothing special in the words.

_“Because I want to run with you.”_

They shouldn't have made him change his mind at all, right?

_“Because I want to run with you.”_

Wrong.

They changed everything.

Why?

It was actually pretty simple.

For starters, they made him remember a time in his life when Stride had brought him so much joy—pure, simple happiness. A bright smile, a timid laugh. Two good friends.

They also made him reflect upon the memories of his brother, and about all the pain and anger they always carried. The fact was, Riku loved Tomoe. He adored his brother and he wanted to be just like him, and he was the reason Riku started to run in the first place. They ran together, for the simple enjoyment of it.

It was after that Tomoe started considering the possibility of competing, and he was just so good that Riku had encouraged him enthusiastically. He had been so proud of his big brother, and so happy to be a part of something Tomoe obviously adored to do—too much, perhaps.

It had been frustrating, when Tomoe's training increased and suddenly he was running so much faster than Riku, getting further and further away. Riku could have borne it, though. For his beloved older brother, he could. But when Tomoe wouldn't stop to wait for him anymore, when he would just say a _try harder_ without really trying to make Riku stand and follow, when he gave up on asking Riku to run with him—

It was then that Riku felt so much hurt that he decided to quit.

When Tomoe didn't say anything against his decision, but instead accepted it without a word, Riku felt his heart break and he did the only thing a boy who loved his brother too much could do: he blamed it all on Stride.

If they never knew what Stride was, if Tomoe never wanted to try to compete, if they never watched a race…

If it weren't for Stride, Tomoe would still be running with him.

_“Because I want to run with you.”_

Those words changed so much, because through those words he realized that the only reason why he had hated Stride so much was that it had once been unjustly blamed for his feelings of abandonment.

Tomoe had chosen it over Riku.

Well, it was different now.

Takeru had chosen both.

 

* * *

 

 

The match against Saisei was hard.

Riku hadn't been expecting anything else, and it made him grin with anticipation when he met Asuma at their starting point.

It would be different this time, he could feel it in his bones. _He_ would be different this time. Without the oppressive feeling of loneliness that Tomoe's memory used to cause, Riku felt almost as if he were a new person.

He had been at his best during their last days of training, without slowing down after the second half of his dash or feeling out of breath as he had before. It was becoming alarmingly clear that his problems had their roots on his small emotional trauma rather than being caused by his physical condition. It seemed so, at least.

Asuma had started to gain the lead and the memories were back, threatening to crush him and have him at their mercy, but it was then that Takeru's sharp voice cut through the veil and reached him.

The words were painfully familiar, and they were the only thing that Riku needed to put himself back together.

“Trust him, trust Riku! Riku, _don't give up!”_

Riku _flew_. His legs were on fire and he felt short of breath but he didn't let that stop him. He saw Takeru approaching from the corner of his eye and smiled.

They connected beautifully, seamlessly, and in that moment they were the only people that existed. Two boys in a world of nothingness, during a second that was both endless and ephemeral, lasting forever but over too soon. Riku was sure he had tears in his eyes, but he couldn't care less.

He smiled brightly and whispered a _thank you_ , and the world started moving again.

Riku fell with a roll, watching as Takeru's back got further away, but the loneliness didn't reappear. Instead, a rush of happiness, of pride surged in his chest and he grinned, even as he gasped for air.

“TAKERU, GO!”

Panting and exhausted, but determined, Riku got to his feet and hurried to the finishing line. Takeru would win for sure, and he _had_ to be there to see it. He had to be the first one to tell him _well done;_ to offer him a helping hand and a congratulatory smile.

It was his job, after all. His _right._

 

* * *

 

 

It was after the celebrations were over, but before the team started to focus on defeating their next and last opponent—probably the most difficult one they have encountered so far—that Riku decided to act. He had waited a couple of days for Takeru to approach him, but the other boy was playing possum and Riku was fed up with the avoidance. It had to stop.

Riku busied himself with putting away the course obstacles, giving the upperclassmen enough time to vacate the changing room. He had done that to be the last one to change, so that Takeru—who was waiting for him already in his school uniform—was left alone with him without suspicion.

Riku glanced at the other boy beneath his eyelashes while putting on his shoes. Even when he had promised, it was evident that Takeru didn't really want to talk. Riku realized that his only chance to make him do so would be if he cornered him. He worried his lip, furrowing his brows while thinking the best course of action.

Even when he had promised, it was evident that Takeru didn't really want to talk. Riku realized that his only chance to make him do so would be if he cornered him. He worried his lip, furrowing his brows while thinking the best course of action.

Was it okay for him to just demand information? Wouldn't that just make Takeru more defensive? He didn't know, he wasn't a psychologist for God's sake! He was just a tactless fifteen-year-old that was worried sick about his best friend. To hell with being subtle, he decided.

He got up and walked over to where Takeru was standing against the wall just beside the closed door. The other boy had been looking at his phone, but his eyes lifted when he heard Riku approaching.

“Ready?” he asked distractedly, attention returning to his phone while he straightened a little from his slouched position.

Riku didn't answer with words. Instead, he thrust himself right into Takeru's personal space and put both hands on the wall, one on each side of his head, trapping him.

He was more aggressive than he should, apparently, because Takeru startled so hard that he actually _flinched_ before he hunched slightly in what clearly was a defensive position, covering his stomach with his arms as if to stop a blow. Riku froze, now certain that he had been _right_ and suddenly filled with dread.

Takeru opened tightly shut eyes and peered questioningly up, and his already pale face lost even more color when he realized it was only Riku.

There was alarm and fear in those blue eyes, but Riku knew it wasn't fear of what Riku would do. It was fear of what Riku would think about that reaction. His stomach felt heavy but he set his jaw in a stubborn gesture and decided to get on with it.

Without giving Takeru time to think or react, he grabbed the bottom of the other boy's shirt and lifted it quickly but carefully, exposing a lean, pale stomach marred only by a purplish green bruise on one side. Both boys flinched this time, one for the sudden perceived attack and the other at the sight of the injury.

Takeru's trembling hands tried unsuccessfully to pry his shirt away from Riku's grasp, and after giving up with that they attempted to hide the bruise, doing a rather poor job of it.

“Ah, this is… This is nothing… What are you—”

“Who?”

Riku's eyes met Takeru's after considering the damage for a while, and he knew they were burning with barely contained rage. His voice was pitched low, and he was clenching his teeth so hard that he didn't know how he had actually managed to say anything at all. He had never been so _furious._

Takeru blinked in confusion and stopped trying to blend with the wall.

“… what?”

“This!” he snapped, gesturing towards the bruise with his free hand. “Who did this?!”

Takeru looked down and then to the side in shame, before returning his eyes to Riku's, almost begging for him to drop it. No way.

“It's nothing, Yagami, I swear… ”

“SHUT UP!” he snarled, and the dark haired boy recoiled at his tone, which made him bang his head against the wall.

A pained grunt brought Riku back to reality, and he immediately felt contrite.

“Shit, sorry.” He cradled Takeru's head with his hands. “I didn't mean to… God, I'm so sorry.” He bit his lip and made sure that the other boy hadn't hurt himself too badly because of him.

“I'm fine, it's okay. It was nothing.”

“No, it's not okay! Come, sit. Let me look at it just in case.”

“I'm telling you I'm fine, Yagami.”

“Don't be stubborn and sit, damn it. Can't you see I worry about you?”

The plea made Takeru sigh, and he seemed to deflate, nodded vaguely towards the bench.

Riku gracefully accepted the concession and guided Takeru to the wooden seat, and then carefully began prodding around the back of Takeru's head in search of the bump that was probably already forming there. A sharp hiss from the other boy alerted him when he found it, and Riku released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding when there seemed to be no other problem with it.

“There, it's just a bump.”

“Told you.”

They sat together in silence for long minutes, comfortable but not at the same time. Riku fidgeted. Takeru exhaled loudly, defeated.

“It's my mom,” he admitted reluctantly, and Riku's eyes grew wide.

“What?” He croaked, not sure he had heard right.

“This.” He imitated Riku's earlier gesture, signaling the general area of his abdomen. “It's my mom.”

“What?!” The question was more incredulous this time, tinted with the horror Riku suddenly felt. It was Takeru's _mother?_

Takeru didn't look at him, fiddling with the charm of his cell phone.

“I… I don't blame her. She's hurting, you know? I remind her too much of dad, and he left us before I was even born and mom loved him so much, her world crumbled when he left. She's hurting, and it's my fault, so it's okay.”

Takeru sounded so damn young and earnest and pleading for Riku to understand that it made the other boy's heart ache.

Though he wanted to refute those atrocious claims, Riku didn't interrupt, sensing that Takeru needed to get it off his chest.

“Sure, it hurts, but it isn't as she does this all the time. It's usually just once a week, or even less. She usually doesn't beat me, though. She shouts, or drinks, and she may say many hurtful things but it's okay, I know she must love me. She... she had me, didn't she? And she sends me to school, even though she doesn't believe I'm worth the effort, even though she thinks that I won't ever amount to anything… But she does, so she... she must love me, right?”

He choked, turning towards Riku and looking so vulnerable that Riku wanted to wrap him in cotton wool and whisk him off to someplace safe and away from all the hurt.

The broken tone and the desperation in Takeru's face and eyes—which glistened with tears that were about to fall—were too much for Riku to bear, and he didn't hesitate to take the shaking form in his arms and hug him warmly.

Takeru tensed, flight or fight instinct kicking in, but Riku rubbed his lower back soothingly and murmured reassuringly in his ear, waiting for him to relax in his embrace.

“Shhh… It's okay. You can let go, Takeru. You can cry," he said, attempting to soothe him.

Slowly, tentatively, he was hugged back, and then he felt Takeru finally break down. Hands clutched the back of his shirt as Takeru hid his face in the juncture of Riku's neck as he sobbed noiselessly, without caring for his glasses or anything at all.

Riku struggled with his own tears, blinking them back and swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“What your mom does is not okay,” he said once he felt like his voice wouldn't break. “It's not. It doesn't matter whether she's hurting or... grieving or whatever, she doesn't have the right to do this to you. It's _wrong,_ Takeru. _She's_ wrong. You're absolutely worth the effort. You're not a waste of space or money or... whatever you are thinking about. You're an amazing person, you know? You are. Everybody can see it: the club, our classmates. We love you. The sempai love you, Nana-chan loves you and I…” Riku faltered, sudden revelation hitting him with the force of a thunderbolt. He loved Takeru, and as more than just a friend. “And I'm in love with you,” he said, awed and breathless.

Takeru lifted his head from where it had been resting against Riku's shoulder and looked at him speechless, face completely unguarded. His glasses were askew and Riku couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the adorable image he made, even when it was slightly blemished by fresh tear tracks. Riku carefully wiped them away with his thumbs, straightening the thick glasses at the same time, while Takeru stared at him, inspecting his face with suspicion and disbelief.

“You love me?”

Riku could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, but the incredulous tone grated on his nerves. Did Takeru think it so impossible for Riku to love him (for somebody to love him)? He forced himself to keep eye contact with Takeru's bright blue eyes, because he was serious and he had to convey this clearly, without any possibility of misunderstandings.

“Yes, I do. I..." He took a deep breath. "I love your dedication to Stride, your determination to better yourself, and the way you encourage me to do so, too. I love that you're so blunt that I never have to wonder if you're telling me the truth. I love that you made me realize that I was giving up something that I really loved for something stupid. I love the way you look when you run—free and happy and so focused on what you're doing that your eyes glint. Or when you smile, because you do it so little and when you do, your whole face brightens and your eyes shine and oh my God, I'm rambling, my face is on fire, please, _please_ shut me up I'm babbling and I can't stop and I'm embarrassing you and I'm embarrassing myself and…” His endless monolog was cut off by hesitant, slightly chapped lips.

The kiss startled Riku, chaste and shy and so very sweet—a soft brush of skin on skin that could barely be considered one, but which was precious for that very same reason.

“Thank you. I… I think that I may love you, too,” Takeru said with a tiny smile on the corner of his mouth, and then he was peeking beneath long, black eyelashes and Riku realized that, oh, the boy was so very beautiful, too, and Riku was smitten, and how did that happen? When did it happen? He didn't know, but he didn't regret it. Not a tiny bit.

He was also glad to notice he wasn't the only one blushing like mad.

Smiling happily, his eyes crinkling at the corners, Riku framed Takeru's face with adoring hands and brought their faces close once more, until they were breathing the same air.

“I'm glad,” he murmured, and leaned towards the other boy to give him a kiss of his own.

When imagining different likely scenarios and ways in which this conversation could go, not once had Riku thought about something like this happening. It was unexpected, completely impulsive and almost crazy, but Riku couldn't really find it in him to question it. It felt so _right_.

He knew that it wouldn't be easy. They were two boys in a world that wouldn't accept their relationship without looking down on them, not to mention the added complications of Takeru's home life, unjust as it was.

No, it wouldn't be easy, but looking at Takeru's smiling face, Riku knew that it was more than worth it.

Then and there, Riku firmly resolved that he would do everything he could to support Takeru and help him get out of his dangerous home situation. It didn't matter if it was by court—if he managed to convince Takeru to press charges, which he doubted—or just by offering his own home as a sanctuary Takeru could retreat to when everything became too much, Riku would be there for him. He would try his damn best to procure that Takeru's small smile stayed, forever illuminating the face of the usually stoic, beautiful boy he had come to admire and now love.

It was a promise that he would never forget.

 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... this is it. I hope you liked it.
> 
> You can leave me prompts or ideas if you like. I can't promise I'll write them, but maybe some will spark my inspiration and I'll write a little something about it.
> 
> Tumblr: kurosakiami01
> 
> Thank you all for reading! <3
> 
> Minor edits made June 20, 2017.


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